


you are still the only thing

by daydoodles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydoodles/pseuds/daydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve sighs, and Bucky feels the tremor in his breath. “I can help you. You don't have to do this.” Bucky knows he's talking about going under, but all he hears is “you don't have to leave me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are still the only thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my friend Pati, who's recently joined me in the depths of Stucky hell and prompted me with "things you said with no space between us" from one of those writing ask memes on tumblr. This takes place somewhere after the end of Civil War and the extra scene during the credits, you know the one.
> 
> Also the title's from [Flashlight](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=u-Qw6T_FKMc) by The Front Bottoms.

There's a knock at the door, which instantly sends Bucky into survival mode. He straightens up from where he'd been taking his socks off next to his bed, back going rigid and feet planting themselves into a fighting stance purely out of instinct. It's only after he hears a soft “Buck, it's just me,” that he relaxes and unclenches his raised fists.

Steve opens the door slowly, like he's hesitating a little, and Bucky grunts a vague encouragement as he climbs in bed, burrowing under the covers because they make him feel safe. Bucky doesn't really know why Steve is here, but he can guess; and he honestly isn't ready for this conversation. He doesn't think he'll ever be, but then again when has that mattered? Steve sits on the edge of his bed, resting his forearms on his thighs and staring at the wall vacantly like he always does when he's lost in thought. Bucky nudges him with his knee to bring him back to the present.

“Are you sure about this?” is all Steve says, but it's a loaded question.

He could be asking if Bucky’s sure about being put back to sleep after so many years. He could be asking if Bucky’s sure about trying to rewire his brain - again - so that he won't respond to Hydra mind games anymore. He could even be asking if Bucky’s sure about ignoring his broken prosthetic for the foreseeable future, but he isn't. Bucky isn't sure how he knows, but somehow he can tell.

“Steve,” he whispers, and Steve takes the prompt for what it is; he lays back next to Bucky, climbing under the sheets and wrapping his arms around him. Bucky drapes his arm over Steve’s waist, pressing his forehead into his strong chest. He can feel Steve’s heartbeat through his shirt, and follows it like a mantra. It grounds him.

“I can't lose you again, Buck. I can't.” Steve’s arms tighten almost imperceptibly around him, and Bucky feels like his ribcage might collapse in on his breaking heart.

“You won't lose me, Steve. I just don't wanna put anyone else in danger, is all. You know I'm a loose cannon, and I always will be if I stay the way I am now.” He turns his head, pressing his cheek against Steve’s heart.

Steve sighs, and Bucky feels the tremor in his breath. “I can help you. You don't have to do this.” Bucky knows he's talking about going under, but all he hears is “you don't have to leave me.”

Except he does; he's been brainwashed and taken advantage of so many times, he’s hurt so many people, and it's always Steve who’s left to clean up his mess. Steve doesn't blame him for a single thing he's done; which is sweet, it's endearing, but it's naive. Bucky may not have been fully in control when he committed countless crimes, but he still committed them. No amount of wishful thinking will change that, and Steve can't expect to justify it. As much as Bucky wishes Steve would see him for what he truly is, he knows it will never happen.

Which is why all he says is, “Yes I do.”

Steve rests his chin on the top of Bucky’s head. “I would be okay with spending the rest of my life protecting you, you know that? You're all I have left.”

“I know.”

“So why do you think leaving me will fix this?”

“This isn't about us, it's about what's right. I can't ask you to cover for me anymore.”

“I'm a criminal now anyway.”

“That's not the point.”

“Then what is?”

Bucky pauses, tries to come up with a tangible explanation, but finds he can't. He just shrugs halfheartedly and says, “If I keep going like this, eventually my sins will catch up with me. Even if I don't, they still will, but I'm trying to avoid adding to the list. I don't want you to get stuck in the crossfire...again.”

“So you think it's better to just cut me out of the picture?” Steve tenses, and Bucky shakes his head as best he can with his face pressed to Steve’s sternum.

“I'm not cutting you out, just reassigning your role.”

“And what role do you want me to play in all this?” Steve sounds genuinely curious, and Bucky knows that whatever he says, Steve will take it to heart. He'll do whatever Bucky asks, which is why he needs to be careful.

“I don't want you to spend your life worrying about me. I don't want you to feel like you always have to be by my side, or keep tabs on me, or be the one to save me when any of the countless people I've wronged finally gets off their ass and comes for revenge. I want you to be free, not to have to carry the weight of what I've done just because you want to protect me. You can't protect me from myself, Steve. You never could.”

Steve doesn't respond, just tilts his head to press a quick kiss against Bucky’s temple. They stay like that for hours, neither one willing to address the deeper issues; their feelings, their motivations, their relationship in general. There will be plenty of time for that, but not now. They have bigger things to worry about.

When T’Challa comes to fetch them in the morning, they're both still wrapped up in each other, limbs tangled and breathing synced and for once, they don't hide it. T’Challa knocks on the door gently, pulling them back to the reality of what's about to happen, and they groggily untangle themselves and slide to the edge of the bed, bare feet hitting cold floor and a heavy feeling in the centre of their chests. They don't say anything, and neither does T’Challa; they all know some things are better left unsaid.

Steve guides Bucky to the room T’Challa directs them to, a firm hand on the small of his back, grounding him in the present. That's what Steve has always been for Bucky; the one thing that keeps him here, the one part of himself he can't let go of. His saving grace.

Maybe Steve needs to learn to let go, too.


End file.
